


The odds are never in our favour

by Elybell



Category: Motherland: Fort Salem (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Blood and Injury, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Maybe about life inside district 11?, Or maybe....., This is total fight/0 fluff. Should I write another one made of pure fluff?, True Love, wedding day?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:41:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28633452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elybell/pseuds/Elybell
Summary: Raelle was good at creating problems. Maybe only good at creating problems. She spent every day of her life thinking about it, every person who got close to her made her feel that way and no one had stood beside her long enough to tell her it wasn't true. Until Scylla arrived.Scylla, who understood her, who mitigated her spirit, who helped her keep any destructive streak at bay. Sometimes she couldn't, and Raelle felt this innate call to be a hero that often ended in disaster. AKA Raylla Hunger games au aka Raelle is in physical danger and Scylla saves her. (The Hero!Scylla au we all need)
Relationships: Raelle Collar/Scylla Ramshorn
Comments: 8
Kudos: 63





	The odds are never in our favour

**Author's Note:**

> (The left text alignment is very, very weird.)  
> What's right is right. I lost a challenge, and the price was a fanfic where Raelle was in physical danger and Scylla was the great hero.  
> I can't complain, though, because I am extremely satisfied with the result. I hope the murder nugget is happy with it?  
> Enjoy, guys!

The legs struggled to move forward, but it was the only chance they had for salvation.

Three days. For three days they had run away, up and down, haunted by fires, and acid rain, and wild beasts, and arrows thrown by the other participants. Raelle had nearly lost an arm to a badly aimed sword strike. Scylla thought it was a good fortune, having found themselves at just the right moment against the sunlight. The guy from District 1 was aiming for her initially and Raelle, as usual, had stepped in and parried the blow, but neither of them had seen the second sword already up in the air and ready to descend on whoever came in front. Scylla had just had time to push Raelle aside, her reflexes were slowed by hunger and heat, and the blade had met the blonde's shoulder, giving her a nice deep cut.

Now, running behind the other girl, Scylla could see the tight bandage on the wound stain red, as well as Raelle's slower and more awkward steps. She pushed her girlfriend, then placed her not injured arm around her neck and helped Raelle in the run, whispering words of encouragement; a quick glance was enough for the 12th district brunette to understand that the girl of the 2nd had a high fever again. Great.

They hurried up the slope, while the fire controlled by the strategists was left behind within the limits of the woods. Scylla was out of breath, her lungs burned, but she still managed to stay alert; after all, that wasn't her first time at the Hunger Games. It wasn't even for Raelle, but life in the Second was different, comfortable, and Raelle, despite being combat-trained, didn't groe up with the same alertness and smart reflexes as Scylla.

Her deep blue eyes saw a small indentation in the rock, not very wide, but large enough for both of them to be able to sit, perhaps even lie down and hide from anyone who had passed under the little mountain. It was perfect.

“Come on, Raelle, we're almost there. Just another little effort."

The blonde moaned slightly, panting, but she seemed to return more lucid when the heat of the flames was abandoned, far away.

Scylla helped Raelle up the rocky ledge, holding firmly the hand of her good arm. She climbed to their hiding place first, so as to be able to pull the other girl on top with her. Finally, after numerous efforts, they found themselves on the ground among the ferns and weeds that predominated in that part of the arena, sultry and humid. No tribute ever stayed there for too long, because that kind of climate favored only to make them lose precious body fluids, to increase hunger and thirst or to worsen the physical conditions. For the moment that was the only solution Scylla had been able to think of.

When the evening fell inside the gigantic dome -another thing completely controlled by the outside-, Scylla had regained her strength and turned to Raelle, who was sleeping a restless and disturbed sleep, great drops of sweat fell on her hot face, from her forehead to her chin.

"Rae... I'll change your bandages now, okay?" Scylla whispered to the sleeping girl, who regained consciousness with a start and narrowed her tired red eyes. She nodded briefly, moving onto her back and thus extending her injured arm to Scylla.

The bloodstain had expanded, there was no longer a single corner of the bandage left untouched. Scylla swore under her breath as she, with all the care in the world, unrolled the cloth tied tight just below Raelle's shoulder.

When the naked and cut skin appeared before her eyes, the girl of the 12th sighed heavily, starting to rummage in her backpack. Raelle kept her face turned in the opposite direction, swallowing numerous times.

"Is it that bad?"

Scylla opened her mouth but closed it soon after, smiling quietly.

"Not so bad. A few days and you will recover."

It wasn't entirely a lie.

It really would only take a few days for such an injury. The fact was that the sword that hit her was poisoned, and even if that poison -Scylla knew it- was not that strong, it weakened the body and spread quickly through blood.

“You just need to rest and not force yourself. This place is perfect."

Raelle swallowed once more without meeting her gaze, and didn't speak again.

Scylla began to spread what little ointment was left in the small tin package onto the surrounding reddened skin, then she moved on to place it with light fingers directly on the wound. She glanced at Raelle, who clenched her jaw, closing her eyes, and when the pain became too strong she bit the fabric of the sleeve of the sweaty shirt she was wearing.

She couldn't complain, she couldn't scream.

Scylla did as fast as she could.

"I'm done, I'm done, hold on.."

Raelle gripped the earth with the hand of her good arm, her knuckles whitened, and Scylla knew from that detail that the wound was worse, not better than before.

Luckily she finished after a few seconds, and Raelle began to relax.

"You, Scyl." The blonde didn't look at her face, but her words were clear and sharp in the silence of the night.

"No, I don't need it."

"Bullshit. Scyl. You're hurt too. We've been using that stuff just for me for the past few days."

Scylla was hurt, yes. She had burns on various parts of her body, she had sprained her ankle, a branch had pierced her side and the day before, while running, she had fallen into the brambles.

"It's nothing. I'm fine. Yours is more serious and poisonous."

Raelle tried to take the box of ointment from her hands, but Scylla was faster and put it in her backpack, moving the latter behind her, out of Raelle's reach.

“You have a fever, I don't. It is more important to take care of you, now"

The other girl looked harshly at her eyes, but it was not a hardness given by hostility or hatred. It was a simple consequence of the love she felt for the girl.

"You don't have it _yet_. Wait a little longer and see, with your wonds."

"I never get a fever, Rae." Scylla offered a pleased, sassy smile, positioning herself behind her and surrounding the blonde’s waist with her arms, so as to offer body warmth and comfort.

"You're impossible" Raelle would have continued arguing, but she was too weak to do so, Scylla knew and felt it in the softness of her muscles and her nerves, normally snapping and tense under her skin.

"Sleep, Rae."

The blonde remained silent, and Scylla didn't know if she had closed her eyes or not.

After a few minutes she spoke softly, producing a barely audible whisper.

“The guy of the 3rd has medicines. I saw them when we met him in the woods a few days ago."

"Raelle, sleep."

Raelle fell silent, but did not close her eyes, unlike Scylla, who knew better than her how important it was to regain strength and save energy.

"We could steal them."

At which Scylla got up on one elbow and looked at Raelle from above, tired and impatient.

“Do you want to listen to me, for once? That boy is gigantic. No one stands a chance”

“We do”

“Raelle. Just wait for someone else to get him out of the way or for time to run out, it's simple."

"Scyl-"

"No. That's enough. Now sleep."

Scylla's voice was firm enough to put an end to the discussion, but not to lessen Raelle's guilt.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

They met during a previous edition, when they were younger and inexperienced. Or, at least, Raelle was.

Scylla, who came from District 12, knew how to survive in such a place. The training that one had received in the combat rooms, sanitized and safe, the other had had it directly in the field, where life was real and raw, and there were no indulgent teachers or meals rich in proteins and carbohydrates. Raelle was not a naive girl, she knew what to do, but Scylla was infinitely better, if not the best. Even back then, Raelle, full of herself and proud, always ready to refuse everyone's help, had been saved by Scylla. Not because they liked each other, but because Scylla needed Raelle's favorable position with sponsors. That had been the brunette’s strategy.

They hated each other, they fought, they hurt each other, physically and mentally, during those long weeks. Scylla had stuck to her plan and Raelle had finally found herself someone whom, back then, she had defined "on her level". But things changed. The times they saved each other became a little too many to be just a matter of strategy, the kindnesses they reserved were far too much for simple companions in misfortune. What they thought was competiotion was only an attempt to impress. They fell in love.

That was the fourth edition in whichtwo participants won. Because the audience wanted the show, and to continue the show and keep power over the people, Capitol City had conceded the victory, letting it appear as something extraordinary and romantic. With the passage of time and the editions of the games, rules had softened, to give a semblance of humanity to the public, of kindness. In order not to lose sovereignty on the districts.

Raelle had never forgotten all the times Scylla had risked her life for her. She had never put aside all the guilt for what Scylla had received in her stead, she never forgot what everyone said and kept saying about _“_ _the girl of_ _the_ _12_ _”_ and her plan to stay in the good graces of the public with her fake relationship.

Scylla and Raelle truly loved each other, their feelings weren’t fake. And Scylla never complained once. She remained silent, accepted those criticisms, those accusations every day of her life. Raelle couldn't take it.

Even at that moment Scylla thought it was better not to attract attention, to remain anonymous and safe in the shadows, to wait for someone to send them a parachute with some medicine, some food. But Raelle was not a person who remained in the shadows. She was someone who went into the spotlight and smashed everything just to stay true to herself. For Scylla, she would go straight into the sun to cause trouble.

Not that that was a good thing, Raelle was good at creating problems. Maybe only good at creating problems. She spent every day of her life thinking about it, every person who got close to her made her feel that way and no one had stood beside her long enough to tell her it wasn't true. Until Scylla arrived.

Scylla, who understood her, who mitigated her spirit, who helped her keep any destructive streak at bay. Sometimes she couldn't, and Raelle felt this innate call to be a hero that often ended in disaster.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The blonde moaned under her breath, settling herself better on the bed of leaves and earth, and she felt Scylla's arm softly placed on her hip, the hand open and abandoned on her abdomen. She had fallen asleep.

Clear eyes opened in the dark, staring at the shadows of the great trees of the tropical forest; the sky was starry, the air serene and fresh, the humidity had dropped exponentially. And that meant it was her chance.

She tried to move as gently as possible. She shifted her weight slowly, moving away and escaping from the embrace of Scylla, who was resting peacefully next to her. Her face was red, burnt; her shoulders left uncovered by the dark tank top had severe burns; numerous thorn cuts spread out the length of both arms. Raelle, seated, tried to focus her gaze on the girl's torso, more precisely on the area below her ribs. The fabric was black, but even in the dark she could see the wet spot. Raelle took a risk, bringing a few fingers closer and raising the tank top just enough to allow her to see that, having reached a certain point, it did not lift, as it was attached to the dry and sticky blood of the wound on her side. Scylla groaned in her sleep as the fabric pulled, and Raelle quickly let go, letting the cloth fall back into place as her girlfriend went back to sleep soundly.

This time, the story would have been different.

The darkness did not allow Raelle to see well the terrain or every obstacles. But perhaps also the fever was responsible for that, it showed no sign of abating. It wasn’t a problem, though: she would have returned as soon as she had managed to steal the medicine from the 3rd District boy. She kept repeating this phrase to herself endlessly, to keep herself lucid, to find strength where she could find none. And so she kept walking, running, keeping in mind the way back. At least that was simple.

At each step a stick creaked, leaves rustled, but luckily the light wind that caressed the forest was on her side, covering every little careless sound. Once she reached the highest point of the plain, Raelle began to climb a tree similar to a large palm to have a greater and wider view, so as to know in which direction to move to reach her goal, her prey. She laughed inwardly, thinking how stupid that thought was: she could barely keep her eyes open and at the same time thought of a megalomaniac as her prey. Still, the blonde’s willpower continued to burn, for she had now decided that she was going to save Scylla tonight, not the other way around. She would bring her the medicines, ending that long history of being a burden for the brunette to handle. Raelle would not slow her down, or annoy or force her to take care of her anymore.

A distant little voice tried to tell her that this was how love worked but she ignored it, because she hated feeling guilty, hated feeling reprimanded for her instinctive acts and hated to simply not feeling worthy of Scylla.

Once the top of the tree was reached, she finally had a nice view of what was the valley of the arena: here and there, various fires were scattered between the dark green of the trees and bushes. It wasn't what she was interested in, so her gaze moved closer, where a large dark stripe shone under the moon. The river. He was there, she felt it.

She imprinted inside the mind the coordinates to follow, the distance as the crow flies, and went down, cutting her hands against the strange bark of the tree.

"Shit" Another wound to heal.

She didn't listen to the itch of those little cuts on her palms as she ran, more silent than ever, towards the river. It didn't take long to arrive, the water was close.

When the splashing sounds became louder Raelle lowered herself, bending over her knees, and she hid behind every bush, tree and boulder. The boy was exactly where she expected: sitting on the rocky bank of the river, awake -for who knows what reason-. Raelle's sharp gaze, awakened by adrenaline, moved around his figure in search of the bag. She didn't want to fight, she just wanted the medicine to take back to Scylla. Once stolen, she would have turned in silence and ran away, reaching her girl before dawn.

She carefully moved her feet and jumped behind a large boulder closer to the guy; from there she was able to get a clearer view. With a quick glance at the sky she blessed the bright full moon that shone above them, illuminating the whole forest with white light. The water sparkled, reflecting every milky ray, and it was thanks to those rays that she saw, hidden under some wet dress, the medicine bag of the tribute. It was close, she could do it.

She could do it, yes.

Or rather, she could have done it, conditional, because as soon as she allowed herself to smile and began to think about the next move, one arm encircled her throat from behind and she found her back pressed against a tall, nervous and snappy body.

"Look what we have here, the broken lion of the 2nd" The boy's voice was next to her ear, his breath stank of rotten seaweed and the tone was absolutely contemptuous and ironic. That was the worst nickname Capitol City ever gave her. The forever 2nd lion of district two. It couldn’t be more accurate. Raelle hated it.

The megalomaniac of the 3rd spun around, gripping the long pointed club he used for fishing and fighting, a smile formed on his face. “I knew she was coming one of these days. Too proud."

Raelle closed her fingers, even those of the hand of her injured arm, on the nervous forearm of the one who was squeezing and holding her without any difficulty. Judging from height and strength, it was the tribute of the first District, the same person that had hurt her shoulder.

"Leave me, Porter..."

She tried to loosen his grip with all the strength she had, to breathe some air, but he was strong and she had a fever. As soon as the boy heard her words he burst into a sick laugh, turning to his friend next to the river, who replied with a crooked smile.

“You aren't so tough since you got the girl, huh? What is it, does she bottom you every night and you’ve lost all your arrogance? That's how she got you in the first place, isn't it?" He laughed, increasing the pressure on Raelle's neck, and she began to feel her hands tingling.

“Do you want the medicine? For you, or for the little girlfriend?" He nastily punched at the wound on her arm, which Raelle obviously had forgotten to cover with a thick layer of bandages. The air left her lungs for a few seconds. Raelle felt the instinct to scream, but she held back, using a force that went much deeper than her will.

It was pure survival instinct.

Porter laughed again, and this time his fist hit her ribs, producing a dangerous crack. Once again her breath left her, but the pain that followed was stronger than before. Meanwhile, the other guy enjoyed the show with his arms crossed.

"Wasn't the other day enough for you? Do you prefer hands over swords? Is it your thing?" Porter whispered in her ear, his voice completely corrupted by a note of desire for blood, so much so that Raelle, for a brief moment, found herself scared by it.

The grip around her neck disappeared, and she was thrown to the ground a few paces away, coughing and wheezing.

"Come on, show me what you can do, Two"

The tall nervous boy dropped his sword to the ground and clenched his fists, inviting her to make the first move.

Raelle wasn't stupid, she knew he was stronger. But unfortunately she was also impulsive, and that impulsiveness far exceeded any other feature of hers. For this reason, as soon as she had recovered enough blood in her arms and legs, she lunged at Porter, preparing a straight punch aimed to the center of his face.

Porter dodged it smoothly and pulled a knee against her stomach which made her feel sick and spit blood on the grey rock. She fell to the ground, on all fours, keeping a hand pressed to her belly, and Porter laughed at her, throwing his arms up.

"You really softened, pathetic." He leaned over her and pulled her up by her hair, squeezing it to their roots, making her groan aloud. That, she couldn't stop, even though it hurt less than the blow to the ribs.

On her left arm, the blood had reached her wrist. The wound had begun to bleed profusely.

 _Well_ , she thought, _here's the stupidest way I could find to die_.

The boy of the 3rd approached with his dangerous stick, but Porter pushed him away with one hand, in euphoria.

"No, I want to see her suffer and ask for mercy."

He pushed her back to the ground hard and held her down, placing a knee on her breastbone and wrapping his cold fingers around her throat. With the other he stretched out to take back the sword.

“Do you remember this? Do you want more?"

Before starting anything he had in mind, however, the boy dropped the blade for a moment beside Raelle's moving, rebellious body and punched her face, over, and over, and over, _and over,_ until her pale features were entirely covered in blood. Coming from the nose, lips, cheeks and forehead cut off.

Raelle felt faint on the tenth blow, but she fought not to, not to let go. She had to bring the medicine to Scylla. She had to show her that she wasn't a failure, that she could take care of her, that she wouldn't pass out for so little, even if Scylla wasn’t there to see.

The blade crawled and clanked against the river rock as Porter gripped it with his hand, stained with Raelle's blood. His dark eyes full of fury stared into hers, narrowed and tired.

And then, the sword came down on the wound already present on her arm, slowly, in unbearable torture.

Raelle feared that her teeth would crack from the force with which she pressed them together, and when her pain was too much, she couldn't hold back. She screamed.

Porter looked happy, he had achieved his purpose. He shattered her, broke her, humiliated her, pushed her into that hole that he knew she would hate, like anyone coming from the first two districts would hate. He was making her feel weak and hopeless.

"Beg me not to kill you" He whispered to her as he arrested the blade from moving.

Raelle stopped screaming, contracting her jaw and every muscle in her, staring at Porter from the slits of her swollen eyes with absolute resolve. She didn’t say a single word.

"No? Would you prefer to beg me to kill you?"

"Just finish her, Porter." The other guy muttered beside a rock, not very distant from them, sounding bored.

But the one who was torturing Raelle was famous for his temper and he would never agree to a quick end, especially if the one he was killing was his family's favorite, earning their support as sponsor. They had chosen her and not their own son. The expression of the first District tribute twisted in anger as he tightened the grip around Raelle's neck.

In that moment she really thought she was going to die. Everything in her body started to say so.

So she allowed herself to feel like an idiot about the lack of self love, thinking about Scylla one last time, and her love, instead. If only she knew what she had done.

"You will beg me to finish you, you will scream, and you will squirm, and when I’ll be satisfied you will drown in your own bloo-"

Porter never finished that sentence.

A knife, sharp, gleaming, lightning-fast, shone against the moonlight.

It moved horizontally. A steady hand held Porter's head in place.

A deep cut appeared on his throat.

His eyes, that until a moment before had been haunted, widened and lost their spark. The pressure on Raelle disappeared and his body fell to one side, lifeless.

Behind him, standing, was Scylla.

"You're unbelievable."

She wasn’t speaking to Porter, but to Raelle.

If the girl lying on the ground had had even an ounce of strength, she would have laughed.

The megalomaniac of the 3rd District recovered from the shock quickly and threw himself at Scylla, ducking during the run, so as to catch her body with his strong shoulders, but Scylla dodged him with a step back and pushed him against the trees, without batting an eye and without looking away from her girlfriend’s gaze.

“Tell me why the hell did you come here alone. Look at your arm! You're a masochist idiot." She bent down, putting the dagger back in the lining and showing only then her apprehension. She caressed Raelle’s cheek, wiping away some of her own blood.

Raelle really felt like an idiot.

"I screwed everything up as usual, didn't I?" She whispered bitterly, hinting a sad little smile, with the faint voice she found in her throat.

Scylla frowned at her, ready to answer, but the guy of the third grabbed her from behind and lifted her into the air as if she had no weight.

"Damn, you just don't understand, do you?" Scylla, although she was blocked by strong and muscular arms, managed to slide one of hers out of the grip and hit behind her with precision. The human tower left her, kneeling in pain.

Raelle had never seen Scylla so skilled, she looked at her in shock as the brunette turned around and gave her full attention once again.

“What the hell are you saying? You're delirious. When did you ever screwed-" Scylla took a step closer, but her ankle was gripped by a firm hand.

She rolled her eyes and sighed, annoyed.

"Don't provoke me, Salak." The boy pulled her leg, she fell on her back, but during the fall she took the shining knife out again. The two fought for a few seconds. He managed to block her wrists that were holding the weapon.

“We just want the medicine, stupid donkey. I don't want to kill you"

He simply bared his teeth in response, growling.

"Dear God, you are such an animal."

Raelle, meanwhile, was trying to regain her strength as quickly as possible. From there, Scylla seemed at a disadvantage, but from what she perceived, it was almost like she was taking time against that mountain of muscles not to kill him.

“You have ten seconds to leave the medicines, Salak. We leave, and i leave you your life" Scylla pulled the dagger to her, maintaining her calm, fighting the boy's strength. She started counting.

"Never! I will kill you both"

"Five, four... you're a bit unrealistic now, Salak. Claiming you can kill both of us. A bit too bold, I would say. Three.."

"You're only two whor-"

Scylla twisted her wrists, did a backward somersault with inaudible speed and, once on her feet, kicked Salak full in the face.

"Now apologize for what you wanted to say, Three. Or you’ll regret it."

Raelle didn't see her, but she recognized that voice. It was the tone she used when in her eyes you could no longer see the blue iris but only a ring of pure, merciless, brilliant fury.

The boy did not speak. He just grunted and stood up, ready to counterattack. He ran to her, but Scylla grabbed both his arms on which all the strength was loaded and twisted them, surely breaking more than a bone. The momentum caused Salak to stumble, bringing him close to the river bank. Raelle did not know how, or with what strength, but Scylla, small as she was, held the boy by the arms, while the rest of his body was unbalanced and ready to fall into the fast and fearsome waters below them.

"Now tell me at least one reason why I shouldn't do this."

Salak lost all trace of bravado and tried to reach Scylla's arms with sweaty hands, but his twist position did not allow him to.

“Don't- don't, please! I-"

"I wasn't talking to you, stupid." The brunette silenced him. "Tell me one reason."

Raelle realized Scylla was asking her. But she couldn’t speak, she didn't have the necessary strength. She just turned her head and looked at the scene, feeling terribly useless. Scylla looked at her out of the corner of her eye, sighed, and threw the boy towards the rock, causing him to hit the ground with force and lose consciousness.

Now he looked just like what he was: a sixteen-year-old young man forced into an arena where he would hate his fellows, his comrades and friends, trying to prevail over them, even though all were there because of the same misfortune.

Absence of empathy, compassion and kindness: this was the purpose of the arena. To create diseases and force young people to kill each other in order to get the medicine. To exacerbate friendships. To make act of kindness appear as lack of honor and respect.

But that hadn't happened to Scylla and Raelle. They managed to win together, to remain faithful, not to be blinded. Scylla only killed Porter because if she didn't, he would kill Raelle.

The 12th District girl walked swiftly towards Raelle, kneeling beside her. She tore off part of the shirt and with that cloth she wiped the blood from the wound under the blonde's shoulder, carefully, gently. She was a completely different person than she was just before. Raelle watched her move with skill and confidence, biting her lip, her head resting on the rock. She felt her hair caked with blood, the gentle night breeze hitting her dry, broken skin. And in all of this, Scylla was there with her, moonlit, beautiful and merciless.

"How did you find me.." The blonde looked at her, whispering the words, feeling guilty again, but Scylla paid no attention to that detail, smiling at her calmly, even a little cheeky.

“You lose blood, Raelle. And then I heard when you woke up. I honestly thought about how stupid this plan of yours was."

Scylla lied. She would have found Raelle even blindly in a remote corner of the world.

"I know, I'm stupid"

"I didn't say you're stupid." Scylla stopped her, serious. “I said you did a stupid thing. There is a difference. You should have called me. We do things together, do you remember?"

Raelle looked down at her arm, now much cleaner than before.

“I thought that for once I could do it alone. Something for you."

"You already do so much for me. Don't you understand, Raelle?" Scylla had begun to spread the last part of the ointment they had around the wound. “They want us to separate. To hate each other. To judge and fight. Because that's how they control us, with fear."

Raelle listened to her, staring at her relaxed face.

“We can't do anything alone, Rae. We are... laboratory experiments"

Raelle gritted her teeth as Scylla's fingers touched her wound, made even deeper by Porter. The fever was returning higher than before. She looked up at the starry sky then, from which no parachute would likely arrive. What a drag.

Scylla put a hand on her cheek, moving her face back to meet her gaze. She met no resistance.

When their eyes locked, Raelle saw a different note in the blue eyes of the girl she loved. Different from what she possessed when she fought, or when they walked in concentration, or when they talked about strategy.

There was understanding. And kindness, and love.

"Look over there, Rae." With a nod of her head and a sly smile, Scylla pointed to a spot to their left. Raelle looked.

There were shrubs. Not just casual shrubs, but shrubs they both knew.

“They don't send us what we need, but we are able to find it ourselves. Those roots, if we boil them, are excellent anti-inflammatories and healing herbs. You taught me that, remember? And then we have Salak's meds now.”

The blonde turned her head back in Scylla's direction, hinting at a smile.

"I'm not that useless, then."

The other girl returned her smile, wrapping the wound on her shoulder, this time with a real bandage.

"They may even kill us someday, for all I know.."

Raelle's smile fell in front of Scylla's serious tone, and when the 12th District girl placed a warm hand on her face, wiping her lips from the blood, she blinked quickly, a little confused. Her girlfriend then lowered herself to her level, kissing her softly, with all the calm in the world.

They were no longer inside the arena, behind the dark of their closed eyes, but at home, in District 11, lying comfortably on their splendid, comfortable sofa. The shooting stars could be seen in the true, immense sky, and the milky way shone with blue and white and violet light. The crickets sang in the tall grass, the peach flowers detached from the branches and flew up to the porch. Their cat slept curled up at their feet. This was what awaited them once that last Game was over.

Neither of them opened their eyes even as their lips parted by a whisper.

".. but if I love you, I'll never really die."

**Author's Note:**

> Every metaphor inside this work is /purely casual/.  
> 


End file.
